She reached into her duffel bag and pulled out Marisol's sunglasses. Put them on, flicked back her hair.
Now I'm ready.
Gabriel glanced at her. "Those new?"
"Well, I don't figure Marisol needs them anymore." She saw him raise his eyebrows at her new hardheartedness.
The Institute was purple. Well, of course she remembered that, but it was still a shock to see how truly purple it was. A wild thrill of homesickness ran through her.
"Come on," Gabriel said, and led her to the door. It was locked. He rattled in exasperation.
"I forgot the key-"
"What about your new talent for breaking and entering?"
But the door opened. Joyce was standing there, her short blond hair slick and wet. She was wearing a pink sweater and leggings.
As always, an aura of energy surrounded her, as if she might suddenly spring into action at any moment. Her aquamarine eyes were sparkling with life.
"Gabriel, where have-" She broke off, her eyes widening. She'd seen Kaitlyn.
For a moment they just stood and looked at each other. Under her cool exterior, Kaitlyn's heart was pounding. She had to convince Joyce, she had to. But she could feel the waves of suspicion radiating from the blond woman.
Once, Joyce had fooled her, had fooled all of them.
Now it was Kaitlyn's turn. Kait felt just like one of those Federal agents infiltrating the Mafia.
And you know what they do to them, she thought.
"Joyce-" she began, making her voice gentle and persuasive.
Joyce didn't even glance at her. "Gabriel," she said in a grating whisper, "get her the hell out of here."
Kaitlyn stared at Joyce in dismay. There was a buzzing in her ears, and she couldn't speak.
Gabriel saved her. "Wait until you hear what she has to say."
Joyce glanced from one of them to the other. Finally she said, "Did you get the crystal shard?"
"I couldn't find it," Gabriel answered without any discernible pause. "They have it hidden someplace else. But what difference does it make?"
"What dif- " Joyce clamped her lips together and threw a glance behind her, as if worried she'd be overheard. "The difference is that he's going to be here tonight, wanting it."
"Look, are you going to let us in or not?"
Joyce let out a stifled breath, turned her gem-hard eyes on Kaitlyn again. She gazed for a long moment, then she abruptly reached out and snatched the sunglasses from Kaitlyn's face. Kait was startled but wouldn't show it; she returned the aquamarine gaze steadily.
"All right," Joyce said at last. "Come in. But this had better be good."
"It's good if you want another clairvoyant," Gabriel said once they were in the living room. "You know Frost isn't very good."
Joyce sat down, one trim pink leg crossed over the other. "You've got to be kidding," she said shortly.
"I want to join you," Kaitlyn said. The buzzing was gone from her ears; she could speak in cool, nonchalant tones.
"I'm sure!" Joyce said. Her tone was sarcastic.
"Would I bring her here if it wasn't true?" Gabriel asked. He flashed one of his brilliant, unsettling smiles. Before Joyce could reply he added, "I've looked into her mind. She's sincere. So why don't we just cut the bull? I'm hungry."
"Why would she want to join us?" Joyce demanded. She looked shaken by Gabriel's conviction.
Kaitlyn went through her speech about believing Mr. Z's theories about psychics and supreme power. She was getting good at it by now. And, she was finding, it was fairly easy to sell it to people who wanted power themselves. It was a motivation they could understand.
At the end of the oration Joyce bit her lip. "I don't know. What about the others? Your friends."
"What about them?" Kaitlyn said coldly.
"You were involved with Rob Kessler. Don't deny it."
Kaitlyn could feel Gabriel waiting for the answer, too. "We broke up," she said. She wished, suddenly, that she had thought more about this part of the story. "I was interested in Gabriel and that made him furious. Besides," she added with happy inspiration, "he likes Anna."
She had no idea what made her say it, but it had an unexpected effect on both Joyce and Gabriel. Joyce's eyebrows went up, but some of the tightness went out of her mouth. Gabriel hissed in a sharp breath-like someone about to say, I knew it all the time.
Kaitlyn was startled. She hadn't meant that. Rob had never given any sign-and neither had Anna-or at least she didn't think so. ...
And she couldn't think about it now. She had to stay firmly in the moment. She fixed her eyes on Joyce, who was looking torn.
"Look," Kait said. "This is straight up. I wouldn't come here if I wasn't serious-I wouldn't put my dad in that much danger." She held Joyce's gaze. "Because you guys can do things to him, right? I wouldn't risk that." In fact, it wasn't something she had realized until a little while ago. Mr. Z's psychics could attack over any distance, and if they found out the truth about Kait, he'd be an obvious target. Now it was too late to turn back-the only way to protect her dad was to make her act good.
"Hmm. But you went all the way to Canada to fight us."
"Sure. I went to the Fellowship and found it was a crock. They can't even help themselves, much less anyone else. And-it's not that I don't care about Rob and the others anymore, but I can't stick with them when they're going to lose. I want to be on the winning side."
"You and Lydia," Joyce said, grimly amused. It was another hit; Kait could tell. "Well, if nothing else I suppose we can use you as a hostage," Joyce murmured.
"In that case, can we get some breakfast?" Gabriel asked, not waiting to see what Kaitlyn's reaction would be.
"Right," Joyce said briefly, handing Kaitlyn the sunglasses. "Nobody else is up yet. Get it yourselves."
A little different from the cheerful-homemaker attitude you had before, Kaitlyn thought, not bothering to shield it from Gabriel. He grinned.
The kitchen was different. Dirty, for one thing; there were dishes in the sink and Coke cans spilling out of the wastebasket. A cardboard box full of sloppily shut take-out containers was on the counter.
Chinese food, Kaitlyn saw. Joyce never let us have take-out Chinese. And those boxes of Frosted Flakes and Captain Crunch in the pantry-what had happened to Joyce's health food kick? An act?